


June 21, 1947

by ColumbiaSkies



Category: Boardwalk Empire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-08 08:32:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3202580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColumbiaSkies/pseuds/ColumbiaSkies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Explained by the title</p>
            </blockquote>





	June 21, 1947

**June 21, 1947**

 

Sweat rolls down my neck, but I can blame it on the Sun. The room is empty save the two of us. The solstice blares, its still early. The news will come, but I still count the minutes that pass. 

He paces and strolls around the room. After all this time, he can’t stop watching his back. But I can’t focus on him right now. I’d prefer to, but I can’t. The smoke from my cigarette seems to move with him. I’d almost forgotten it was burning. 

The ticking of our watches go out of sync and his uneven pacing throws everything off. With the suspense, it’s all very uncomfortable, but neither of us speak up. We can’t. Several times I’ve thought about it, but what was there to say? What could he say? What sort of casual conversation could we fabricate at this time?

That sun is hotter for us than for everyone else. We both know it, so neither of us speak. I try to ignore my watch.

I wouldn’t tell him for the world, but I couldn’t sleep a wink last night. I wonder if he did. I hope so, it’s what’s best.

The phone startles us both. I try to stand up but I don’t move. I suddenly realize I don’t want to hear it. I don’t know if I can. He’s the same way. We both just stare at it, the phone. Like its some sort of alien, noisy object we can’t comprehend.

I finally push myself from the chair, but at the same time he reaches for it, and answers first.

He keeps his gaze on me, both his face and mine blank. That’s all we can allow. His voice is low and flat.

"Yeah?"

"Okay."

"Yeah."

"Thanks."

He stares at the phone for a moment, his hand still on the receiver.

He nods to me. “Its done.”

I thought I would feel some sort of relief. I thought I could let my shoulders drop a bit and sit back down. I waited, but that feeling never came.

_It had to be done._ My mind whispers the same words I’d been telling myself for days.  _You did what you had to do. It was all you could do. It had to be done._

"It had to be done." Charlie says out loud.

I didn’t realize I had dropped my cigarette. He walks around the phone on the desk and puts his hand on my shoulder. All I could do was nod. My voice wouldn’t work.

I look up at him. He shifts his eyes away from me and its then I can see the sadness in his expression. Just for a moment before lets his arm fall back and gestures to the door.

"I’m going to go tell them," he says.

I waited for the door to close before turning to the window. The Cuban sun hadn’t quite risen yet and the light flooded my office. 

I try to focus on something. I need to clear my mind, to collect myself. But I can’t get there. Like the sunlight, memories flooded my head. Things I hadn’t thought about in years. Of a thirteen year-old boy who almost always had a black eye or busted lip, but never had a problem smiling, or yelling through it. Of the eighteen year-old who was always either shouting or laughing. Of seeing him in news reels at the movies a few years ago where he was always so calm and charming, and knowing just how far from the truth that was.

He would whisper jokes in my ear in Yiddish at parties, trying to make me smile, and make stupid faces at people who came off rude, and lash a sarcastic comment at anyone directly rude to me. He was always doing that, he always wanted me to look at him, and be grateful for something he did. He…

He always wanted me to smile.

My fist clenches without my control. I spin around to the desk and papers and files begin flying about the room. My ledger book hits the wall and falls open on the ground. Documents and letters rip under my shoes as I stomp across the floor. I hear the lamp fall and crack and the phone hits the wall so hard, it leaves a hole.

I back up from the desk, hands stinging and shaking, marveling at the great mess I’d created. I grasp for the wall behind me.

_It had to be done. It HAD to be done._ I repeat the words in my head but they mean nothing.

_We had to. We couldn’t keep going. It was all we could do. IT HAD TO BE DONE._

I fall against the wall, then I’m on the floor. I have to collect myself but I know I can’t. I lean my head into my hand. There’s a knot in my throat that I can’t get rid of. I keep swallowing but it just comes back.

_I had to. It had to be…_

The door opens and Charlie quickly closes it behind him. He stares at the desk and wall in surprise. “Meyer?”

I open my mouth, trying to find the words. What can I say? It had…

My voice finally makes it way past that knot, though all I can manage is a whisper.

"What have I done?"

 


End file.
